


Bechloe Week 2020 - Day 6 - Hospital

by aca_bhlo_me



Series: Bechloe Week 2020 [3]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Bechloe Week, Bechloe Week 2020, F/F, Hospital, Vibrators, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25688761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aca_bhlo_me/pseuds/aca_bhlo_me
Summary: Beca has a trip to the hospital to get something removed.She definitely tripped and fell on it.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: Bechloe Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853110
Comments: 40
Kudos: 125





	Bechloe Week 2020 - Day 6 - Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so as per usual I am a day late and a dollar short (or actually many many days late).
> 
> I love writing ridiculous stories / AU's so I hope that you find the ridiculousness funny because that's literally the only goal - no realism or facts whatsoever. Life's hard enough, let the good writer's do the angst and I will fool around. Someone take my laptop off me.
> 
> I've briefly re-read it but no doubt I have mistakes that I should fix, feel free to point out any glaringly obvious things I've missed that I should be ashamed of lmao.
> 
> This is for Bechloe Week 2020 - Day 6 - Hospital.

Beca Mitchell doesn't believe in fate. In fact, she would probably go so far as to say that anyone who believes in fate is certifiable. Believing that there is a greater plan and you have zero control over how your future will end up is not appealing to her. Not at all. Sure, people might be able to delay certain factors but believing in fate seems to imply that no matter what path you choose, the outcome is predetermined and you will ultimately end up with the same result. 

Now that sounds all sorts of fucked up if you ask her.

If fate was real, then what sort of monster pre-determined that she would end up here. She has many questions about this, all running wild in her head like a pack of coyotes given meth (or something more relatable). What could she have changed that would've prevented this? Is there anything she could have done? Or was this some sort of divine plan to humiliate her beyond belief? 

Lastly, what the hell is she supposed to learn or gain from this?!

She's uncomfortable. For multiple reasons. 

The first is that she's here in the waiting room at the ER of her nearest hospital. She considered driving to another city or state to go to the hospital so no one she knows could possibly see her but since she is a minor celebrity, she feels that even her low sitting baseball cap hiding her hair and some of her face isn't going to be good enough this time. Chances are _someone_ will recognize her anyway dammit, purely just because she _really, REALLY_ doesn't want them too.Her cheeks are blazing and someone will no doubt wonder why this seemingly random person in a hospital has their face on fire and douse her with a fire extinguisher, then BAM! They'd realise it was THE Beca Mitchell. It would be just her fucking luck if you ask her. 

The second is the _reason_ she is currently sitting (well not sitting, leaning against a wall and trying to keep herself awkwardly upright) in the waiting room of the hospital. It may not be possible to actually _sit_ at the moment without doing some serious damage to herself. Beca is nowhere near game enough to try sitting again after her Uber ride here, that shit was not fun. She didn't miss the side looks the driver gave her as she grunted and moaned and finally lay down on her side in the back seat instead of sitting upright like a regular person. Honestly she's surprised he didn't kick her out of the car on the off chance she may vomit.

If she could have a re-do of today, she would do it no questions asked. Listening to her friends is almost never a good idea (even when they have her best interests at vagina - not heart - as Stacie politely put it). It seems to always end up biting her in the ass (thanks Amy and her baby dingos), getting her caught in sticky situations (again, thanks Amy and her April Fool's prank of gluing Beca's headphones to her ears) or getting her caught with her pants down in her office studio (this one was thanks to Stacie and her incessant need to see the apparently boob shaped birth mark on Beca's ass that Amy was bragging about having witnessed while living with her, so also thanks Amy she guesses).

This time it didn't seem like a horrible idea to listen to Stacie. Her suggestion wasn't _totally_ wrong and it wasn't super outrageous (especially compared to normal). Stacie was wrong about one thing though, Beca is not lonely. Stressed? Yes. Sexually frustrated? Possibly. Maybe... Ok yes. Lonely? Definitely not. How can she be when she's surrounded by people constantly? Be it friends, family, colleagues, fans, the general store clerk who judges her for how much ice-cream and chocolate she buys on Friday nights. By definition, that's like the complete opposite to lonely.

Being slightly chattier with her Uber eats delivery drivers doesn't mean she's lonely and her recent interest in humouring the telemarketers she gets is just for fun and definitely not some deep seated need for human connection. Her music is enough. Work is enough. Her diabolical friends are enough (even if she doesn't see them all that often at the moment. She's just really busy with work.)

So Stacie suggesting she try one of the new vibrators that she's supposed to be testing for work (Stacie really enjoys her job) on the condition that she provides some feedback for it once she's used it, wasn't the _worst_ idea. It actually sounded kind of fun (but she's not going to fucking let Stacie know that!). 

* * *

**_**2 days earlier**_ **

Beca needs to change the locks on her doors and not give her friends the spare keys again. 'For emergencies only' means apparently literally anything they want it to mean. Even just being bored is an emergency these days according to Stacie. The only reprieve Beca has is that at least Stacie isn't destructive or thieving like Amy. 

And she brings gifts too. Unsolicited ones.

"Beca you are a lonely, sex starved little monster and I cannot let you do this to Susan. She's crying out in pain," Stacie states with a little too much passion for Beca's liking.

Beca's eyebrows scrunch in confusion, "Who the fuck is Susan?"

Stacie throws up one hand as though it should be obvious, "Duh, your pussy."

"Why have you named my vagina Susan?" Beca asks incredulously.

"Because she's lonely and stuck up and very picky apparently," Stacie looks her up and down before lifting her arms up in exaggerated distress, "She's _dying_ Beca!"

If she rolls her eyes any harder they may roll right out onto the floor. She (and everyone else) knows that Stacie loves sex, that's no secret, but what she doesn't understand is why her sex life (or lack there of) affects Stacie in any way, shape or form. It's almost like she's suffering right along side Beca and that's just weird to her. Beca's never once given any thought to her friends sex lives or masturbatory habits and she isn't about to start now. 

There may be some validity to what Stacie is so gracefully stating to Beca, but she's not about to give her that satisfaction. She does what she is good at, stonewalling and denial. Her good ol' reliables in dealing with uncomfortable or awkward conversations. Stacie does what Stacie does best, refuse to give into to Beca's stubbornness and leaves the newly designed, waiting to be tested vibrator in the box in Beca's living room before she leaves.

It sort of makes the decision to use it easier for Beca in the end.

* * *

**_**The next day**_ **

Beca stared at the box for a good few hours before finally taking the hideously coloured device from it's packaging. She's grateful it's not phallic in design, and it's quite petite. Just a bullet style vibrator, nothing looks particularly fancy about it or different to any other she's seen in her life (mostly the gigantic display of vibrators Stacie has lying in her bedroom) so she's not exactly sure why this one is supposed to be different. 

To avoid any distractions she's turned her phone off and put the bluetooth speaker on in her room. A little mood music couldn't hurt her in this situation. Grabbing the bright yellow vibrator from the box and shuffling over to her bed is easy enough. Turning it on and slowly pressing it against her clit is even easier. The pulsing sensation is really good, she won't lie about that, and she does grab the bed spread with her right hand once the contact was made. It's almost over-stimulating for Beca so she dials the power down slightly and slides it down to her entrance, pressing inside gently. She's sweating and she's not sure if it's hot in the room or not but she can't bring herself to care. Her hand begins to twist and it's like it's moving of it's own free will. Her body is deciding that she needs this and it won't let her deprive herself any longer. 

It's good. Really good. Really, really good. Breaking that dam and feeling the orgasm flood her body and blind her senses temporarily is incredible and she hates to admit it, but Stacie might've been right.

Susan was dying.

She's lying on her bed, trying to catch her breath and regain her ability to think when she goes to grab the vibrator to put it away after flicking the switch and turning it off. Beca tugs on the end but it won't budge. She tries twisting it but it's not moving at all. Panic sets in and she curses Stacie in every language she knows - only English and what little French she remembers from High School. Jumping up from the bed was not a good idea but her panicking mind is not thinking straight, it hurts because apparently every muscle in her body has contracted right now and it causes her to groan loudly. Now Beca is sweating for an entirely different reason and she's _still_ not sure if the room is hot or its just her. 

Beca tries so many things to get this thing out of her but it appears determined to stay nice and snug in it's current home. Squatting, showering, bearing down, jumping (which still hurt). Nothing budged the vibrator an inch. 

She cannot think of anything more humiliating than this and considers just living her life from now on with this yellow vibrator stuck inside her but she calls an Uber instead, vowing to never tell anyone about this experience for as long as she lives.

Plus also plotting Stacie's imminent death.

\---------------------------------

Beca is currently waiting to be called in and trying not to groan in discomfort and frighten other patients. Checking in alone was already embarrassing enough. She's looking forward to this being over or dying, either is good at this point frankly. Beca knows one thing for sure. She's never going to be able to look her Uber driver in the eye ever again. That dude has heard her groan and moan in ways he should never have had to hear from a living being and not a dying animal.

She asked that they call her by her legal name 'Rebecca' so hopefully no one will recognize the name. Beca is currently also wishing that her doctor is unaware of who she is and will get her sorted quickly before she has an aneurysm due to the stress. Right now she's just struggling to stand as upright as possible without being conspicuous or wailing loudly. This just needs to be over so she can murder Stacie and then never leave her home again. She'll just produce music from home forever and never have to relive this incident ever again. It sounds like her new dream life.

"Beca Mitchell? Is there a Beca Mitchell here?" is shouted through the waiting room and Beca feels like if it was any louder, it may as well have been through a bullhorn. If she wasn't in pain and just trying to get out of here as quickly as possible, she'd be rolling her eyes at everything going against her want for invisibility right now.

She looks around for the voice and sees a nurse searching for her. Puts her hand up to indicate her presence and the nurse gestures towards the hallway. Beca shuffles herself over to the nurse so slowly that people must be wondering what she is doing. 

"Ok Beca, Dr Beale is waiting for you down that hallway and in room 12 on the right hand side," the nurse motions to the general direction to travel down. Beca nods and continues to shuffle down the hall.

The door is open and Beca keeps her head down the entire way while walking into the room, stopping next to a chair and leaning against the wall and closing her eyes, knowing that sitting is still impossible right now. 

“Hi Beca I'm Dr Beale. What seems to be the problem today?” she hears directed at her in a far too chirpy manner for a doctor in a hospital. 

When she opens her eyes to answer the question, she sees her assigned doctor for today and panics. She's young. Young and pretty. No, not pretty - beautiful. Gorgeous even. If she was going to think potentially cliche thoughts she might even say breathtaking. Or she could be having a panic attack and that could be the cause of the breathlessness. Who even cares anymore, this is humiliating! Beca starts tossing up leaving right now to avoid having to deal with this. Can she just try again at home to take it out? What if she tries to sleep it off? Or squats differently? What if she asks for a different doctor? 

Alright, that might hurt her feelings - what if she got someone else she didn't want? (Actually scratch that - there isn't really anyone she wants to help her with this to be honest).

Not that she doesn't want this doctor, she just doesn't want to embarrass herself further today, especially not in front of one of the most beautiful women she's seen in a very, very long time.

God what she would give to not be in this situation. She's so awkward and it's been like an hour of silence since the doctor asked her what the problem was and she's too busy freaking out internally to answer her. 

Beca clears her throat and he voice squeaks, "Oh umm. I uhh. I fell on something." Yep. The intelligent doctor who had to go through years and years of medical school is going to believe you tripped and fell vagina first onto a vibrator. Good one Beca.

Dr Beale pushes some of her loose red locks behind her ear, "OK why don't you take a seat and tell me what happened."

Beca knows this is about to get a lot more embarrassing before it gets better. She's going to have to move states or change her name or fake her death after this. "Oh no! I can't do that," she rushes out. 

Confusion flashes on Dr Beale's face momentarily before she replies kindly, "No problem, no need to sit if you don't want to. How about you just walk me through what happened?"

Beca takes a deep steadying breath. She's going to have to bite the bullet and tell her in order to get this bullet out of her. "Ohhhhhh kay. I have something stuck. Inside me. It's why I can't sit down." She doesn't want to look at her while she breathes it out, still hoping that maybe she will wake up and this will all be some kind of horrible dream and that maybe Amy slipped her some acid again or something.

Dr Beale's face morphs into understanding and sympathy immediately. She stands and steps over to Beca, gently taking her arm and helping her over to the examination bed. Getting her to lie down and placing her feet together before spreading her knees as wide as she can. There is some definite groaning coming from Beca but there is something about this doctor that calms her - even if it's just the teensiest bit. Explaining to her what and where it's stuck doesn't seem so bad when she isn't laughing in Beca's face. She even tells Beca her name is Chloe - which she thinks suits her, it sounds sweet.

* * *

“What's the worst pickup line you've had thrown your way?" 

Beca’s not sure she’s heard right. What? She has her legs spread and her doctors hands are about to be in a very intimate area trying to remove a sex toy that Beca's body decided to keep forever because she was depriving herself of sex and Dr Beale - Chloe - is asking her about pickup lines?

"Um, what?"

Chloe looks up at Beca, smiling, from her very special front row seat to Beca's worst nightmare and explains, "I'm trying to get you to focus on something else and relax. Come on, just tell me. It might be a laugh."

"Oh ok. Umm. Worst one? I probably have a thousand," Beca says as she tries to remember even one of them.

She sees Chloe grab her gloves and start putting them on, "Yeah. Will it help if I tell you mine first?"

Beca nods, feeling more comfortable by the second (well as comfortable as you could possible feel in this scenario), "Sure."

Chloe purses her lips in thought, "Ok I have a couple but this one is pretty bad, 'Roses are red, violets are twisted, bend over now cause you're about to get fisted'."

"Holy shit that's fucking terrible!" If Beca had water in her mouth she would've spat it out all over her own legs. She has no doubt that Chloe gets hit on a lot, how could she not? But she definitely thought that she would have been on the receiving end of the classier come ons and not the nasty ones like herself. It makes her frown at the thought of Chloe not being treated the way she deserves and she's only just met her.

"Ok now tell me yours," Chloe prompts, leaning back down so Beca can no longer see her.

Beca breathes deeply, in and out, trying to relax. "I might have you beat with this one: 'Hi I'm a burglar and I'm gonna smash your back door in'." Beca cannot see Chloe, but she sure can hear her laughing from the end of the bed and it makes her forget all about her own embarrassment and just relish in the way the sound makes her stomach flutter. It's a very beautiful laugh. 

It takes Beca a second to realise that Chloe is talking to her and handing her a plastic bag with the vibrator in it. She didn't even feel or notice it come out???

"How did you do that?!" She questions in shock and awe, before snatching the bag and placing it in her handbag, hiding it at the bottom.

Chloe seems proud of herself (and a little smug), "I told you I just needed you to relax. I have magic hands," she emphasises by wiggling her fingers in the air.

Beca feels her face go hot. She believes her, very much so. While she could still die of embarrassment at any moment, she doesn't want to. She's enjoyed talking to Chloe. Apparently she can be a social butterfly when the occasion calls for her to lie on a hospital bed spread open. Or maybe it's just Chloe who makes it easy. (Beca thinks the latter is way more likely). 

"Do you need me to call your boyfriend or partner to come and get you?" Chloe offers with a hint of something laced beneath the question. What it is Beca has no clue - she's still terrible at reading people.

"Oh no I'm single. I do have a best friend to go murder for giving me a broken sex toy though," she jokes, wanting to hear Chloe laugh again before she leaves.

She does get to hear it as Chloe grabs a card off her desk and scribbles on it before handing it to her. "Well then, have my card just in case this happens again. Can't be too careful Beca, there could be many more rogue sex toys out there just waiting to pounce," she winks.

Beca face flushes even more. She doesn't believe in fate.

But.

If she did, she thinks that meeting Chloe was definitely worth the shameful experience. And she learned a valuable lesson to never listen or trust her friends again, no matter how much she loves them.


End file.
